


in service of you

by orsaverba



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dom/Sub, Caretaking, Cock Warming, Consensual Kink, Dom!Bruce, Dom/sub, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Sex, Service Submission, Showers, Sub!Dick, Subspace, implied aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsaverba/pseuds/orsaverba
Summary: Dick laid a hand on the center of his Dom's chest once he was close enough, fingers splayed."Sir," he repeated, dipping his chin down so he was gazing up through fluttering eyelashes. "May I undress you?"
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65
Collections: BruDick Week 2021





	in service of you

**Author's Note:**

> BruDick Week Day 1: **Dom/Sub AU**

The drive back to the Cave was marked with prolonged silence. A suffocating tension filled the air, taut around Nightwing's throat like a garrote. There had been a whining in the back of his head since he entered the car; his hindbrain keening for him to undo the straining ropes holding his partner together.

The Batmobile rolled to a stop on its dias and Nightwing slid from the passenger's seat unprompted. 

For all they'd done over the years to make the Cave hospitable, the air remained cold and damp. Dick shivered and pushed his rain-soaked hair back, peeling the domino from his face. The first step away from  _ Nightwing _ and back into his own skin.

Instincts he'd learned since presenting to repress when duty called swam lazily back to the surface of his consciousness. A checklist drifted across his psyche, comfortably routine, helping him through the steps of discarding the persona he wore at night. The last vestiges of  _ Nightwing _ slid free of his mind, prompting him to move on to more pressing tasks, beginning with a glance over his shoulder at the Dom on the other side of the Cave. 

From a distance, it was evident that the solid black lines of the Batman's body were drawn in rigid parallels that hid all the fluid poise he was capable of. He'd neither begun to disrobe, nor removed his cowl, hovering instead somewhere in the middle of the floor without clear direction. The set of his mouth was remote, whiteouts turned to stare towards nothing in particular.

It had been a foul and miserable night. Nights like this, Bruce lost the bits of himself that he needed to stay  _ human  _ beneath the cowl. He retracted into a shell of darkness and violence, where the droning wardrum of his Dominant instincts kept him from coming back to himself.

Dick set his domino on the hood of the Batmobile and reached for the hidden zipper at his throat. He began sliding it down, opening his suit to reveal planes of glistening olive skin. He rolled his torso in an exaggerated shrug, sending the suit slithering from his shoulders. It cascaded down his body in ebony and sapphire waves, pooling at his feet. The plain jock and protective cup he wore joined it a moment later. 

Naked, Dick stepped from the discarded pile of clothing. His bare feet made no sound on the cold stone floor, each step measured and slow. With each step forward, he dropped further into his Submissive instincts. When he moved, it was with the languid grace of a show cat, all swaying hips and loose limbed irreverence. Open. Offering.  _ Urging _ . 

"Sir," he called.

The Batman's head snapped around so fast he could all but hear his neck creak in protest. Blank white lenses tracked his approach, unreadable and ominous.

Dick laid a hand on the center of his Dom's chest once he was close enough, fingers splayed.

"Sir," he repeated, dipping his chin down so he was gazing up through fluttering eyelashes. "May I undress you?"

For an agonizingly long moment, Batman neither moved nor spoke. Dick waited, ever patient, the clammy cavern air seeping into his bare skin.

Finally, he gave the barest inclination of his head.

Endorphins rushed through Dick's body, firing against the synapses of his brain to convey a sense of utmost satisfaction to him. He beamed, pleased beyond measure that he'd asked his Dom for the right thing.

"Thank you, sir."

Dick knew well the traps and catches protecting the Batsuit from unwanted removal and navigated them dexterously. First, he removed the gauntlets and gloves, revealing the bruised knuckles beneath. Then, the cape, draped and folded before being set aside. The sleek kevlar covering his chest came away not long after.

Telegraphing his movements, Dick reached for the edges of the cowl and slid his fingers over the security locks keeping it in place. Gently,  _ reverently _ , he eased the reinforced leather up and off of his mentor's face. Bruce shuddered and sighed, eyes closed. Then he opened his mouth and said;

" **Stop** ."

Dick froze in place, wrists framing Bruce's neck, cowl still held between his hands. The sound of his Dom's voice laced with the tone of  _ command _ made his knees weak, every instinct yearning to simply drop obediently at his feet. He'd been ordered to  _ stop _ , though, and so he remained still.

Bruce dragged a breath in through his teeth. 

Dark emotion knotted his brow and when he exhaled, it was with the rumbling edge of a growl at the end. Dick could sense, if not see, the flexing of his fingers, tightening and loosening around air. They stood in silence for several long moments, the same tension from the ride home beginning to wrap itself around them.

Dick's tongue pressed to the back of his teeth. He could see his Dom slipping away, being pulled under by the raw current of his self-loathing. He had to help him refocus, give him something to ground himself with. Opening his mouth, he let the first thing that came to mind tumble out.

"Would you like me to tell you my safewords, sir?"

Bruce's eyes cracked open a sliver. Up close, they were the most startling shade of cobalt blue. The same color as the velvet lining Dick's favorite pair of cuffs.

Once again, his Dom seemed unable to speak, and nodded to indicate his assent.

"Red means stop," Dick said promptly, waving away a second rush of endorphins trying to cloud his thoughts. "Blue means slow down, I'm unsure. Green is good, keep going. White means I need to break our scene, but I'm not in danger."

Each word eased something in Bruce's expression, smoothing over the furrow in his brow and helping his breathing grow even. When Dick had finished, he slowly raised his hand, until the flat of his palm could cup the side of his throat. Only years of practice kept him from shivering and disobeying the unspoken order not to move.

" **Tell me how you feel now, precious.** "

Dick's knees nearly buckled at the sound of his pet name, the one Bruce used when they were alone. 

"Green, sir," he said, breathlessly. "Very green."

The pad of Bruce's thumb stroked over his jugular. It smoothed across his adam's apple, traveling further until his throat was framed by the width of his hand. Dick's heart beat faster, pupils dilating. He could feel the first lazy tendrils of his subspace tickling his mind, teasing him with the comfortable oblivion of going  _ under _ . The relief only Bruce could ever give him.

" **And now?** "

" _ Green _ , sir."

Bruce nodded, more to himself than anything.

"Continue, precious."

He squeezed Dick's throat, just once, then let him go. Dick let out a shaky sigh of pleasure.

"Yes, sir."

He made quick work of the utility belt and boots, then crouched and slid the leggings down his mentor's firm thighs. Impulsively, he laid a reverent kiss on one of the long scars stretching the length of his hip, only to receive a sharp yank of his hair in reprimand. 

" **No** touching," Bruce grit between his teeth.

"I'm sorry, sir."

Dick watched from his kneeled position as his Dom struggled with himself. 

He was all too familiar with the warring factions of his mind. One wishing to reassure in the face of an apology; another eager to control and dominate; the still all-too-prominent beast that yearned for cold nothingness. The absence of all things that made Bruce Wayne human. Especially the parts of him that Dick brought to the surface.

Dick had done battle with this beast many times. He'd yet to lose. 

Shaky fingers carded through his damp hair.

"Stand up."

Dick drew himself to his feet fluidly, arms loose at his sides. The hand in his hair flexed and something ugly twisted Bruce's mouth briefly. 

Sometimes, the vulnerability he allowed himself around Bruce was as frightening for the man as it was beloved. He put his whole self in the palm of his hand and  _ trusted _ that he would be cared for, not broken. And on nights like this, there was some terrible part of his Dom that yearned to test those limits.

As usual, this frightened Dick none.

"Can we take a shower, sir?" he suggested in the form of a question. Being a service-Sub meant that he had to control the scene without outright dictating it, using his own wants and needs to care for his Dom instead of the other way around. 

Bruce allowed him to take his hands and guide him across the Cave to the bank of shower stalls. Dick chose one at random and turned the water to scalding, waiting for it to heat up before stepping under the harsh spray. He left his Dom behind him, familiar with the weight of his stare observing the way he quickly cleaned himself of Gotham's grime.

When he was done, Dick turned in a slow circle for inspection. Bruce tipped his head to the side, eyeing the new contusions littering his chest critically, gaze sweeping down to the shallow cut on his calf. Nothing life-threatening, just hazards of the job. He nodded, apparently satisfied, then stepped forward into the stall.

"On your knees, precious," he commanded quietly, voice nearly lost under the sound of water hitting tile.

All too happy to comply, Dick eased himself down to the shower floor, kneeling comfortably at his Dom's feet. The fuzzy warmth in the back of his skull had begun to spread by now, misting the edge of his thoughts so the lines of his consciousness blurred together. Now he was on his knees (  _ where he belonged _ ) he had trouble staying above the tide of his own brain chemicals, coaxing him to slide under. 

A hand-- the hand he wanted in his hair, gripping his wrists, twisting his arms behind his back,  _ circling his throat _ forever --appeared on the crown of his head and guided him forward to lean against Bruce's thigh. Dick went willingly, sighing with contentment as his cheek pressed to mottled skin. He tucked his arms behind himself, crossing his arms and holding his own wrists in lieu of restraints.

Time passed sluggishly in the dip between consciousness and subspace. Dick may have sat there with his cheek against his mentor's thigh for hours, or it may have only been minutes. He blinked his eyes open, unsure when he'd closed them, watching the shifting muscles of the stomach above him.

Bruce was rolling his neck, pressing firm fingers into a point of tension on his shoulder, the remnants of a scentless soap washed away under the cascading water. Dick lowered his eyes to the skin nearest him, staring openly at the flaccid cock just inches from his face. His mouth dropped open, inhaling steam, saliva pooling under his tongue as  _ want _ stirred in his gut.

"Sir?"

Above him, Bruce hummed.

"May I, sir?"

"Use your words, precious."

Dick whined, but complied. 

"May I fill my mouth, sir?"

The hand returned to his head, this time guiding him back, straightening him from his gentle slump.

"I'd like it if you did, Dick," Bruce said gently, and affection blossomed in his chest at the words.

Dick leaned in, nuzzling the smooth skin above his sex before dropping his mouth to the perfect cock waiting for him. He'd done this before, many times, and used his tongue to help guide the soft organ into his waiting mouth without letting go of his arms. A sense of completeness settled over him immediately, dragging him beneath the layer of cotton filling his mind.

There was nothing anymore, nothing but the white noise of falling water and the weight of his Dom's cock on his tongue. The taste of raw flour and musk, the scent of clean, wet skin. Dick drifted, absent of himself, utterly at peace in his act of submission. After all, he was safe here; on his knees for Bruce, with his cock in his mouth, submitting for the man who held his heart.

He became aware, again, when the steam began to clear and a chill set in again. The loss of warmth broke the atmosphere enough to coax him back up from the deep place he'd drifted to, guiding him with gentle hands to the surface.

"Precious," Bruce hummed, his voice a low, syrupy timbre. 

Hazily, Dick blinked his eyes open again. He flexed his tongue, distantly aware of the new ache in his knees and jaw, arms protesting to their caged position behind his back. It was a wonderful, perfect feeling, the kind of soreness he naturally craved. 

Bruce stroked his wet bangs back from his forehead, smoothing his palm around to the back of his skull.

"We're going upstairs now, precious," he said. "You'll eat something, then we'll retire for the night."

Dick slowly eased off of his Dom's cock, a string of spit leaving them connected till Bruce wiped it tenderly from his bottom lip. He swallowed several times, wetting his throat, before he managed a hoarse affirmation. 

"Good boy," Bruce murmured. "Always so good for me, Dick."

They exited the shower in the reverse they had entered, Bruce leading Dick with his hand curled around both his wrists. Still loose and pliant, hovering on the edge of slipping under once more, the Sub allowed himself to be gently manhandled into sweatpants and a soft shirt. Finally, a plain collar appeared in Bruce's hands, the worn leather soft from use as it slipped around Dick's neck.

A lead clicked to the o-ring on the front of the collar, prompting a happy purr from the back of his throat. Happily, Dick trailed after his Dom, up the stairs and out of the Cave, satisfied he'd done his job.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been looking forward to this ship week for ages and I'm so excited to share the pieces I've written with everyone! 
> 
> If you'd like to chat, come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/orsaverba) or [Tumblr](https://orsa-verba.tumblr.com), or leave a comment saying hi! Kudos are also always welcome~


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